


Not Alone

by Anonymous



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bed Rest, M/M, Pregnant Sam Winchester, Supportive Castiel (Supernatural), Worried Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-29 17:18:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20800088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Sam is on bed rest as he’s having Dean’s triplets.And he’s bored.And Dean...is slowly being driven out of his mind.





	Not Alone

“What do you want me to do,” Dean said. “Juggle?”

“Can you?” Rowena’s tone was waspish.

Cas stepped between them before Dean found himself turned into something, for the second time that week, and held up his hands.

“We can find a less…”. _ Comical. With the potential for serious injury._. “Exerting way of preventing Sam from feeling bored.”

Rowena’s expression showed them her opinion on the likelihood of that; she sniffed at them, and turned on her heel. “See that you do.”

And then she was gone, strutting away, and the bunker door slammed over behind her.

“Guys?” Sam’s voice echoed back to them. “Could somebody get me some tea?”

Dean sighed.

++

Nobody expected Dean and Sam to end up together. Probably the two of them least of all, and Dean knew it was beyond fucked up...they were _brothers_...but he still had no explanation for the how, the why, or even the when.

Just one moment they weren’t, and the next Sam was kissing him and Dean wasn’t pushing him away.

But definitely nobody expected Sam to be able to get pregnant. Because he was a guy, and he was Dean’s brother, and Dean still felt like the universe had egged his house or something and that needed a reckoning.

When he was calmer, usually because Cas hugged the panic out of him, he could on some level accept that he and Sam were going to be dads.

And then bombshell number three.

Sam was having triplets.

He almost drove himself out of the bunker after that one, craving some dark drinking hole and the temporary buffer getting falling down drunk would provide.

And again, Cas had stopped him, Bent down to look in at him through the window, and asked Dean what he should tell Sam.

That angel. Always protecting him. Even when it was against himself, because Dean knew when he finally sobered up and dragged his ass home, he’d feel even worse, and that would make him want to just go back to the bar.

Still, the past few months hadn’t been easy, or without upset, but both Cas and Rowena had been quick to reassure him that any minor fracas between the brothers was not why Sam was now on bed rest.

He was a guy, having triplets, and everybody just wanted to be safe.

Safe was good.

But it also meant bored.

++

“We’re not watching The Quiet Man.”

Dean had the DVD half in the player when he realised Sam had spotted the box.

“What’s up with The Quiet Man?”

Sam rolled his eyes as if that answered Dean’s question in detail.

“It’s _The Duke_.”

“It’s _boring_. And his acting kudos is widely overrated.”

“Don’t you say that in front of our kids.”

Sam was sitting propped upright in bed, but he pushed forward as if about to get up. Or, as it turned out, reach for a paperback Cas had brought him earlier, some futuristic spy-robot-romance drivel.

That Sam had dove straight into and finished like he had a book report due in the morning.

Dean glared as Sam picked it up and got that look in his eye. He wouldn’t dare.

The book whacked off his chest and tumbled to the floor.

“I’m not picking that up.”

“Well, I’m not picking it up either.”

“You can’t,” Dean said, and he didn’t know where the sneering tone in his voice had come from, but he didn’t care. “You can’t even reach to scratch your-“

“The Men had an extensive entertainment library,” Cas said, and he came in and moved right between them, gently nudging Dean aside. “Something a little more light hearted might be preferable.”

He opened the box he’d brought in, and inserted a disc, and a jaunty piano tune filled the air.

“Murder She Wrote?”

Dean looked in disgust at the angel, as if all the hard work Dean had done on him had gone for nothing.

Cas stared back at him, a hint of warning in his eyes. Sam cackled, actually cackled, and then he’d set the player to show all the eps one after the other, and somebody was screaming and Jessica’s nephew was being accused of beating somebody to death with a golf club.

“Dean, can I see you outside?”

Dean followed Cas, feeling like he’d been yanked out of class. He watched as Cas closed the door over behind them and drew Dean a few feet away.

“Dean, he’s pregnant.”

“Yeah, I noticed. And being a little bitch.”

“With triplets. Your triplets.”

“You’re saying that like I missed the announcement or something.”

Cas made an exasperated sound. “I know you’re finding this trying. I know it’s different from if he’d broken his foot or caught the flu.”

“It’s trying because he’s-“

He never got to finish. Cas put a finger to his lips, silencing him, and then just waited.

“Scaring you,” Cas said, finally. “Because this isn’t a broken foot, or the flu. Because you can’t take him to get a cast, or give him medicine, or fix it with blankets and soup. You aren’t in control here, and I know how hard that is for you.’

Dean glared warningly at him, but Cas was immune to his sharp temper by now, and pushed on.

“But maybe Sam’s scared too. This is a huge thing for you both, Dean, but I’m here. Rowena’s here, and even if we weren’t, you are both Winchesters, and you have both saved the world.

“You can handle this.”

Dean glanced at the door. He could pretend Cas had it wrong, that he was just fed up being a chew toy for Sam’s rabid hormones, but even without the angel shtick, Cas knew him too well.

And they could handle it. 

Because they were Winchesters.

And he was not going to leave his brother alone to be worried and scared.

He did shoot Cas a scathing look of betrayal, however. “Murder She   
Wrote? Really? What happened to the Die Hard box set I got for Christmas?”

“Too violent.”

“Too…. Have you seen the death count in this show? There shouldn’t be anybody left in North America. I wouldn’t even have this lady on my Christmas Card list.”

“And now you’re being over dramatic,” Cas said. “Perhaps some kind of pregnancy hormonal sympathy.”

Dean turned as he opened the door, seething, and just caught the angel’s cheeky grin as it promptly went back into hiding.

“You’re fucking hilarious.”

“Not in front of our kids,” Sam said, and Dean sighed before plastering on what he hoped wasn’t the fakest of grins.

“So. She solved it yet?”


End file.
